Ties That Bind
by desert-dancer
Summary: Disclaimer: The usual jazz a.k.a I do not own Harry Potter... Blah blah blah... It's all J.K.Rowling's... Blah blah blah...
1. 1

**"TIES THAT BIND****"**

**1.**

He sat behind a makeshift desk, rubbing his temples. Contemplating. The survival of the magical and Muggle worlds depended on two people. Still children, no matter how old they were. Both had to grow up at a tremendous pace and now whilst one continued to protect, the other must age more than anyone and defeat a great evil. Their friend's death had taken its toll, but they pressed on. Determined to end the war, not for revenge, but in memory of one Ron Weasley.

--

She sat quietly on her cot, writing to her parents. A farewell letter, in case she did not return from the battle at daybreak. She was to protect Harry and get him as close as she could to Lord Voldemort. She could not risk failing this mission and it would determine the outcome of the Second War. As long as Harry reached Voldemort, they stood a chance at finally ending all the bloodshed. They stood a chance of avenging Ron, making his sacrifice worth something. She folded the letter and gave it to an owl and it flew off, melting into the black sky. As she sat back, trying to chase away the butterflies in her stomach, she was completely unaware of two others preparing themselves to protect her. Each had a reason, and each knew nothing of the other. Only one man knew, and he would not tell a soul.

--

He silently paced the perimeter of the camp, ignoring the jeers coming from the numerous fires around which the hooded figures chatted casually. Only their forced laughs and grim faces revealed they were masking their nervousness, their fear. Thoughts raced across his mind of what he was only hours away from facing. The betrayal that his deed would cause, the chaos his plan would create. Thoughts of the unspeakable shame it would bring to his family fused with the rest. And all this for a girl. In his eyes, nothing else measured up to the importance of her survival. The betrayal, a mere scratch; the chaos, only slight confusion; the shame, naught but a useless emotion to be wasted upon him. Her mysterious hold over him had driven him to the brink of insanity until he finally gave up asking himself why and how, and instead, accepted the fact that it just was. He continued pacing as he waited for the minutes crawling by to turn to hours, slowly dragging him through time to the point where his true loyalties would be revealed. He had a promise to keep.

--

Leaning against the sturdy tree, he stared out across the field. The fires flickered from each end of the wide expanse, only spots of light from where he sat. The branch on which he perched was hard and cold, yet he took no notice. All he could concentrate on was the mission he was to fulfil. A mission he'd burdened himself with. A mission only he could carry out. His family had been adamant about not taking part in the war. Whatever the outcome would turn out to be, it wouldn't affect them. He had ignored his mother's quiet weeping when she discovered his intentions, he acted as if she didn't matter and yet she covered for him until there wasn't a chance his father could intervene without declaring support for one side or the other. A grim smile crept onto his face. His dear mother would mourn his death, but she would understand once she found his letter. All he could do now was sit and wait.


	2. 2

**"TIES THAT BIND****"**

**2.**

"Albus, are you sure it is wise to let her accompany him by herself?" McGonagall stood restlessly, wringing her hands, "Couldn't we at least send a squad to guard them?"

Dumbledore only shook his head. "Harry will be sought out enough as it is, we cannot allow him to become even more conspicuous."

Minerva opened her mouth to voice a rebuttal, but clamped it shut. He was right and arguing about it was a waste of what little time they had left.

"Really now, do you believe I would send them out without even the slightest protection?" His eyes twinkled, "They'll be just fine."

"But how are you so certain of this? Who will protect them when every person here will be occupied? And how can you protect them magically when you must put everything you have left into the—?"

"You must trust me, just as everyone is trusting Hermione to watch over Harry, and trusting Harry to defeat Voldemort."

McGonagall winced ever so slightly. Not from the use of the Dark Lord's name, but the hard determination in Dumbledore's voice and the fire burning in his eyes. She surrendered a small nod.

--

"Hermione?" The tent flap was pulled open and Harry stepped in.

She looked up from her cot and gave him a weak smile. He stood there awkwardly for a moment before rushing forward and crushing his friend in a tight embrace.

"There's nothing I can say to make you leave, is there." It wasn't a question. They had already argued about it before and Hermione balked at the idea of abandoning her friend.

"He loved you, you know. Ron. He'd kill me if I let anything happen to you. Heck, he'd kill me for saying this but," Harry sat down beside her; things Hermione had never known about were gushing from his lips. "He was going to ask you to marry him, the same night he was captured. He'd planned it all out, bought you a ring even the Malfoys couldn't insult."

Hermione stared, dazed, unsure of how to reply. "But I…"

"I guess it was a good thing he died then, huh?" Harry continued monotone, not hearing her. "You didn't love him did you? Not in that way, I mean."

She looked down at her feet, unable to look at her friend any longer. Thinking over what Harry had said, she thought back to the one she'd given her heart to. Tears formed in her eyes as she remembered.

"Oh, Harry…"

"Just thought I should tell you since I probably won't get the chance later." He stood up and left, leaving Hermione crying softly into her hands.

--

"Hey, you," Someone roughly grabbed his shoulder, "Yer da wants you."

He jerked his shoulder from the offending hand and hissed, "Don't touch me with your filthy hands."

"Freak."

He spun around. Before anyone could blink, he had the man on the ground with an arm pressing down on his windpipe.

"What did you call me?"

The man sputtered, arms flailing, unable to speak.

"Draco, let him go." Another hooded figure stepped out from the shadows with a deadly elegance. "All I wanted were a few words with my son and I find him attacking my messenger."

Draco Malfoy straightened, not being at all careful with his arm on the man's neck.

"Father," he nodded a greeting.

Lucius turned and walked away, the silent order to follow was not lost upon the young man. Draco obeyed, leaving the messenger on the ground gasping for air.

--

"You've been watching me for a long while," He spoke towards the leaves above him. "If you don't move soon, your leg will cramp. It'll be quite painful, I might add."

There was no response. He lay down on the wide branch and waited. No less than a minute later, a moan of pain echoed down and someone fell onto the branch barely managing to cling to it and keep from falling farther.

"I told you so." His voice held a hint of amusement in it.

"Blaise, what are you doing here?"

"Did you honestly think that if you just popped over I'd spill my heart and soul out to you and willingly follow you home like a little lost puppy?" he replied. "The only reason you came is because Father can't be seen anywhere near here."

"Mister Zabini is a powerful man and—!"

"And deserves all the respect his 'insubordinate son' can offer," Blaise recited. "So I've heard. Now get to why you're really here."

"I, Stefan, loyal servant to the Zabini line, am here to escort you home. You're father specifically stated that—."

Blaise interrupted the man once again, "Did you really have to say all that? It's only me here, and I couldn't care less about the frills and rituals of the high-class society."

"Well then, since you intend to stay, I have other orders." Stefan fumbled with his overcoat.

"Finally." Blaise eyed him suspiciously, just in case. His father was not one to let things go easily.

"Here," Stefan held out a fist "It's from your mother."

Blaise reached out a cautious hand and Stefan dropped the object into his open palm. His eyes widened once he saw what it was.

A small grin spread across his face. "Tell my mother to look at my Book, if she hasn't already. Oh, and I'm sure she has something to help that cramp."


	3. 3

**"TIES THAT BIND****"**

**3.**

"Daybreak."

"Is everyone in position?" The time had come. Dumbledore sat, legs crossed, on the floor. A diagram drawn in precise measurements, sketched in blood, covered most of the ground. He took great pains to position himself directly at its centre.

"Yes."

He nodded to his colleague, "And Harry? Hermione?"

McGonagall hesitated for a moment before answering. "They are ready."

"Well then, my dear Minerva, I shall leave things to you." Albus closed his eyes as he slipped into a deep meditation.

She let out a sad sigh and left. Once outside, McGonagall cast a powerful shield around the tent. As she slowly walked away to join the rest, she said quietly, "Good-bye, Albus."

--

Hermione tied her hair back and added charms so stray strands wouldn't affect her vision. She tied a dagger to her arm, out of the way until she needed it. Her clothes were simple and flexible. Only the fine silver chain around her neck seemed out of place, but no one questioned why people wore things like that anymore. It was always some sentimental reason that only the owner understood. She left and hurried to find Harry. She stuck to his side like a burr during the restless minutes before the sun began its accent into the sky. He would leave without her if he got the chance, but she wouldn't give it to him.

--

Draco was pacing once more when the call came. Sunrise. He could feel a set of eyes upon him. Watching him, making sure of his actions. His father had suspected him. He accused Draco of being soft and that he would run at first blood.

"Father had to choose now of all times to care," He mumbled incoherently.

The feeling of the scrutinizing stare was beginning to irritate him. Without much thought, he sent a curse towards the man. It was the messenger from earlier. Draco left him for someone else to find. He had more important things to concentrate on.

--

Blaise slid from his tree and stretched. He couldn't risk a single stiff muscle, even with his mother's aid. A single mistake could be, and would be, fatal. He would see his mission through to the end. The Black God of death did not scare him. In this, Blaise would not allow himself to think of anything but doing what he must. His only regret with his coming death was that he would never have a chance to say good-bye to his mother.


	4. 4

**"TIES THAT BIND****"**

**4.**

Everyone stood, wands at the ready, at the edge of the camp. Waiting. With strict orders to conserve both energy and magic, the warriors would not attack until they had a sure hit. No one spoke, and no one fidgeted. A mass of black flooded onto the field, sending curses towards the ranks. People scattered and others created shields. Amidst the chaos, she glanced toward Hermione with an unknown boy next to her. Of course, an illusion charm, their former professor allowed herself a small chuckle. She returned her attention to the battle.

--

The pair headed straight into the middle of the mass of fighters, hoping to use it as a cover. Together they cast curse after curse, bringing down hooded figures left and right. Hermione wasn't sure how long the illusion charm would last and urged Harry to quicken the pace. A bright red light came speeding towards her, but she didn't react fast enough. Just as it was about to strike her, a shield appeared causing the spell to bounce off and hit someone else. Hermione only hoped it was the enemy. She was slightly angered that Harry had to save her; all the same she looked towards him to thank him, but he was struggling with another man. He couldn't've put up that shield. So then, who did?

--

"Come with me," Lucius beckoned his son closer. "My Lord has given me the honour of judging your performance. Do well and be accepted into his inner circle."

Draco silently cursed and hoped he could escape his father's sharp sight. His face betrayed none of his emotions as he joined the rest. Once the battle had begun, only dumb luck had separated father and son. Dumb luck for which Draco was exceedingly grateful. He watched as she didn't notice the spell aimed at her until it was too late. Without a thought to who might see, he cast a shield around her. An odd look covered her face, but it was lost as she hurried off with another boy who could only be Potter. He ducked into the tangled fighters and rushed to keep up with the fleeing pair.

--

He shook his head when he noticed that Lucius kept his son right next to him, never allowing him wander off more than a foot away. Blaise manipulated a few of the Death Eaters into swarming past them, carrying Lucius away in their wake. Before Blaise finished the incantation, Draco had already cast his spell. He grinned; Draco was always one he could depend on. Only when he was directly assaulted did Blaise interfere with the battle, not wanting to bring too much attention to himself. He gripped his mother's gift in his hand as he crept past Draco and spotted her. With no one the wiser, he slipped the ring onto her finger and melted back into the raging war.


	5. 5

**"TIES THAT BIND****"**

**5.**

Albus Dumbledore chanted, not once breaking the stream of words. His eyes never flickered at the sounds of clashing sides outside. He spoke a language known only by a select few and fewer among them knew how to use it. The chanting came to an end. His skin rippled as the muscles beneath began twitching. They were growing and changing. His entire body was transforming into a new form. Fiery scales sprouted and his teeth lengthened. Fingers and toes became long, sharp claws. Just as quickly as it had started, the transformation was complete. Kneeling low was a dragon, larger and more powerful than all others.

--

A tremendous roar echoed above and instantly Hermione knew. He had succeeded. Voldemort would die today. She clenched her free hand, knowing full well the consequences of his actions. Something cut into her finger. She looked down at her hand and nearly dropped her wand. He can't be, she thought as she tugged at the silver chain revealing a heart-shaped charm. Silver filigree created an intricate design of flowers and vines twined around two letters joining them together. Her arm was jerked away as Harry urged her to keep moving. The chain slipped back under her shirt, but not before she saw it. The charm was glowing.

--

A massive dragon soared over the scene, skimming the top of the battle. A few people cried out in pain as a bright gold talon pierced their skin, completely unaffected by any protection charms. Draco noticed that all those maimed by the creature were the Dark Lord's followers. A curtain of fire rained over the group of Death Eaters Draco had hidden in. He covered his face offering what little protection he could and prepared for the worst, but it never came. Glancing around him, he noticed those part of the group were either burnt carcasses or dying. Draco shot a suspicious glare at the crimson dragon and then suddenly understood. The beast nodded and flew off toward a thicker part of the fight. He quickly sought her out and found her rooted to the ground, staring at her hand. Draco saw the simple silver band inlaid with two small diamonds on either side of a gem that could only have been formed by magic. A sudden wave of joy and relief flooded him, and a grin appeared on his face. So, he was here, the cocky bastard.

--

As she pulled out the glowing charm, his heart skipped a beat. He had known she'd recognise the ring, but he never dreamed that she had kept the necklace, let alone still wore it. Blaise followed casually, bringing up the rear of the little procession. He watched as the dragon turned the hooded figures into human torches running in circles. A few had regained enough sense to put the fires out with their wands, but the dragon adapted and added its magic to the flames making them waterproof. Not once was someone not meant to burn injured. If not the colours, it was the restraint from outright slaughter that told Blaise the identity of the dragon. He absently fingered the chain he wore and sprinted off.


	6. 6

**"TIES THAT BIND****"**

**6.**

McGonagall kept to a routine. Spell, check wrist, spell, check wrist. On her wrist she wore a watch, of sorts. There was but one hand and runes randomly scattered on the face. The hand grew or shrank and bent at angles, but it made complete sense to the woman. Once again, McGonagall looked down to check the watch. She gasped and missed a beat in the routine. Someone called out, and she looked up. Quickly she brought her wand up to block the oncoming spell, but she was just a beat too slow. The jet of light struck her squarely in the chest, throwing her back. She landed hard, sprawled across the ground. Limbs were bent at odd angles and a small puddle of blood spread across the grass.

--

Hermione continued firing spells mechanically as she glanced around, hoping to see him, to confirm that he was, indeed, alive. And she'd send him to his grave for it. For a split-second, she thought she saw him watching her casually as ever, but the image was washed away with a wave of black robes. She turned away, thinking she was seeing things. Her fingers tightened on her wand as she determinedly pushed him from her mind. She was here to protect Harry, and that was the priority. After the battle, if there was an after, she could seek him out and give him hell for worrying her. Maybe then he'd learn she wasn't about to give up on him for anything.

--

Draco grinned. He should have expected this. They had been friends since birth, and both had it in their minds to defy their fathers at every available chance. But he knew that, like him, Blaise was driven by a promise. He spotted his father and pulled the hood down lower over his face, not that it would help. Quickly Draco ducked into another mob of people. For a moment he lost sight of her but, as if waves had parted for him, a line of people fell and gave him a straight path to follow. "I owe you nothing for that one, Blaise," he muttered, knowing that his friend was nearby. "Oh darn, and here I thought I'd be able to get you to take my place in Azkaban," a voice filled to the brim with sarcasm answered. Draco spun towards the voice, but no one was there. Scowling, he turned back to dogging her, "Show-off." "Jerk," came the quiet reply.

--

Blaise hid his smile, though he had no reason to. No one could see him anyway, not that they were looking. Well, with the obvious exception of two people, but they knew. He resisted the urge to pick of an idiot who was so clearly asking to be hit. The temptation didn't last long as someone else caught the nitwit in neck with a stunner. His lips curled into a smirk as he rubbed his own neck. He knew what that felt like, and it would not be fun for the victim when he awoke. If he awoke.


	7. 7

**"TIES THAT BIND****"**

**7.**

An anguished roar filled the air as the dragon swooped low, landing for the first time. His forepaws on either side of the unmoving body of Minerva McGonagall, he bent his head down and directed a stream on white-hot flame to engulf the figure. The flame expanded and a blinding light exploded. For a hundred yards around, the ground was blackened and bare. Bring down his wings hard, the dragon was once again airborne. Without hesitation, he flew down to grab at the hooded figures, shredding them with his claws whilst torching the rest on the ground. None dared to challenge the beast, running for their lives, only to be stopped by a solid force of Aurors blocking all escape.

--

She spun at the roar, the pure pain in it ringing in her bones. Without knowing why, tears sprung into her eyes and her vision blurred for a heartbeat. She wiped her eyes and ducked as a flash of light flew by. Straightening, she moved to follow Harry, but could not find him. She ran, looking around desperately as she fired spells. Distracted, she didn't notice the green flash speeding towards her. "Hermione!" someone cried out. She turned, but it was too late for her to avoid it. Suddenly, something barrelled into her side, knocking the air out of her lungs. Pain flared in her shoulder as she and her rescuer hit the hard ground. "Ow," a voice groaned, "that hurt. Why couldn't you have gone anorexic while I was dead?" She froze, recognizing the voice immediately, yet unable to believe her ears.

--

Draco's voice caught when he saw the horrifying sight before him. As he ran towards her, he found his voice and called out her name, but it was too late. He was still too far away. "No!" he yelled when he saw a dark form tackle the girl. Relief and worry mixed as he continued to run. By some miracle she'd been spared the Killing Curse, but was her rescuer friend or foe? He kept running, forgetting his father, his facade. "Hermione!" he called out again. He suddenly stumbled over a dip in the ground and spotted two figures nearby.

--

Draco's voice was closing in, but Blaise barely acknowledged it. He hadn't moved. Neither of them had, Hermione still sprawled over his chest, staring at him. Hurt, relief, amazement, confusion all flashed through her eyes as he offered a grin. "I told you, didn't I? You shouldn't go for that second tart at dessert." His cheek was suddenly on fire and the sound of her slap echoed in his ears. She was yelling incoherently as she continued to beat him, her blows weakening. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, and whispered gently, "Shh, I told you I'd be back." He brought a hand to her face, wiping a stray tear. She threw her arms around him, burying her face into his shirt. "Still crying like a baby, I see," Draco's voice shot out as he walked up.


End file.
